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"Won'tcha let me see yer wish?"
The corners of Suna’s mouth lift up into a smile.
Amused expression and red eyeliner. "No, and don't you dare look."
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm very busy hangin’ my wish, which, by the way, if you want, I'll let ya see."
Suna hangs up his tanzaku, a strip of gold color— Osamu says it's a good choice because it matches the dubious tonality of his gaze—, and approaches Osamu.
Multiple strips of various colors decorate the bamboo branches around them.
A wish is a desire or hope for something to happen, an interest that a person wants to fulfill in order to achieve happiness or calmness, and with Osamu offering a slight smile after finishing hanging up his tanzaku —maroon because ‘They say colors don't matter anymore, Rin.’—, he still thinks he doesn’t understand the motive behind Osamu expressing that going to that festival is important, since they already have each other, though taped fingers find trained fingers with cuts when Osamu offers his hand.
"So? And your wish is?" Suna asks, Osamu's gray gaze locking with his. "Eat the biggest onigiri in the world?"
They are young, only a year has passed since they have left their Inarizaki uniforms behind and hence think of each other as a pillow to rest their heads in the middle of practice or class. A still juvenile age allows them to dream, to lose themselves among all the possibilities that can turn into hopeful wishes. Suna hopes that EJP continues to be considered a good team and that volleyball won’t lose its importance, while Osamu thinks of having his own brand of food under his last name.
"You can look, I'm not like ya, wanting t’ hide my wish. Maybe yer wish is to get rid of me." Osamu laughs and softly bumps his shoulder with his upon seeing Suna arching an eyebrow at his words, but Suna looks at Osamu's tanzaku.
Suna doesn’t believe that he is in the uncertain by thinking that people consider them to be crazy, but he also thinks that young love is rebellious and daring, wild and sometimes dangerous. Fears exist as well as courage; it’s a hunger for affection, an insatiable feeling that only demands more. Love is beautiful and painful, it represents a threat and a gift. It’s an affirmation that can be shattered despite its solidity.
Unbreakable love, Suna reads.
Osamu leaves a kiss on his cheek. "Shall we go? I want to eat somen noodles."
Suna looks at him, smiling. "You and your appetite."
"I'll eat ya then." Osamu gently sinks his teeth into his shoulder.
"Let’s go, let’s go."
Still holding hands, Osamu guides him but Suna looks back as a confident smile caresses his face.
Eternal love, he had written.
Love burns, love blesses, hell has no choice but to freeze and heaven is consumed in flames, as your soul is cold and the sky promises an endless orange horizon, love hurts. It brings you to your knees, praying, asking, begging for forgiveness. As love is divine, it’s also called a curse, it tears you apart, and it forces you to surrender to once again rise up.
Written in the form of a wish on a tanzaku hanging from a bamboo branch, or evidenced in the form of an expression of calm that continues to accompany him once he turns again and his lips meet Osamu's cheek, Suna believes that love is powerful.
The gold of Suna’s eyes scans the city below him.
He wonders if this is the feeling described as being at the top of the world, the sensation that clouds the minds of those sitting on chairs seen as thrones, with people at their own mercy yet no sign of tenderness when it comes to creating allies. Money, jewels, control, manipulation. He has no power nor feels powerful even though he is on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings, so close to the sky yet not camouflaging with it as the violet fluorescent lines of the costume that hugs the definition of his muscles, don’t allow the black color that covers him from his wrists to his feet to be part of the darkness that acts as the roof of the city.
People represent points from where he is, small pieces that he is aware can easily be corrupted or tricked into moving to form the indicated puzzle as a select group of people who have given themselves the necessary power wishes. Suna narrows his gaze, still not knowing if he is satisfied as he knows that he no longer belongs to that group of people, or resentful with himself, since in case he had taken his headaches and the images that he had seen as nothing more than just dreams, nonsense projections of his head, at that moment he would find himself being one more point, unaware of his true person, of his situation; instead of watching the city, the same countering the dark of the night with the help of street lights and cars moving down the avenues.
Without worrying, without following, without chasing.
He can’t experience anger towards himself. He’s ready to face any kind of consequence as long as he can stay calm, with his mind at peace and his questions answered. He finds himself unable to blame his thoughts for wanting to discover the questions that he doesn’t stop creating day by day no matter what he is doing, the same ones keeping him awake at night as his head leads him to stay with his eyes on the ceiling of his room instead of sleeping.
"Suna."
Kita's voice in his right ear gets him to bring his index and middle fingers to the earbud.
"I'm here."
"You did it."
The dirt on his suit and neck evidences that he has been near the dust provoked by severe small explosions, as well as the red stain on his leg that is highlighted by the fluorescent violet line that runs through his profile, makes it clear that if he is there, it’s not because he has asked for approval and simply had to climb up stairs, but because he no longer asks for permission and does what he has to do no matter what it is to accomplish his own mission. What matters to him it’s that he is on the roof of the building which doors he has passed half an hour ago, and that no one will interrupt his moment as he has made sure to rule out the possibility of said action. Broken glasses, thrown doors, explosives. He can't formulate a single complaint about any of the gadgets that Gin has created.
"I'm not done yet." Suna assures him.
He knows that having entered and left that building is only the first step to reach his true destiny, the one that manifests itself in front of him in the form of an oval building made up of large windows. The most protected construction in the city, surrounded by robots ready to attack and distrust anyone who dares to approach the area as that place is where people with the same kind of power as the people whose lives he has taken to find himself there, keep their memories.
He can hear a sigh leaving Kita’s mouth. "Are ya sure of this?"
"I need my memories, Kita-san."
"Be careful."
"I will."
Suna stops pressing the earbud and takes a deep breath.
The farewell has been said in the form of silent favors that have helped him to find himself there.
It’s ironic, he thinks. He is chasing something that in fact belongs to him.
Personal information not so exclusive that has been extracted from his head without his consent, only leaving him the possibility of remembering the supposed new life that the people surrounded by security and fear have created for him after having forced him to be reborn, freed from all memories of his previous life.
Nerves can’t afford to slow him down because he has spent his time forging his own memories, training and building experience by holding personal combats lessons with Kita as well as testing all the electronic devices that Gin has created so that his grow can reach its acclaimed finale. If others believe that the absence of memories offers his head more space to allow fear or nerves to dominate him, he believes that they are wrong, since he can only fill in the white gaps in his mind with thoughts that has lead him to keep moving forward.
A helmet covers his head as he presses a button that his suit features in the middle of his chest, the screen of said protection hiding the gold of his eyes yet not diminishing his vision, but providing details. He taps another button on his arm and his suit offers him a small grenade that without a doubt he drops as if it were a pen, and he unsheathes the weapon from his waist to aim at the small roof of the building in front of him, a cable expanding from where he is to the small anchor that locks itself in the rooftop of it.
He takes the cable between his hands and stops having his feet on the ground after taking a jump at the same time that the grenade finally meets the ground of the street, his helmet keeping him safe from the possibility of being stunned by the explosion. He sees part of the robots heading towards the first flames that he has created and releases one of his hands from the cable to press a different button on his suit, managing to make his encounter with the windows of the building to not be lethal for his body after covering the palms of his hands and the soles of the suit with violet platforms that allow himself to be glued to the crystals.
It doesn’t surprise him that the building doesn’t seem to have some kind of protection that repels all invasion attempts since the important thing is behind those windows, and he moves through the crystals until he reaches the highest point of the building to find a grating.
He swallows and wraps his fingers around the bars of it. He knows that once he decides to open it and therefore infiltrate the building, there is no going back.
He can’t trust luck but the training he has done. He knows he can consider that night as a climax mission, he is aware that he doesn’t know if he will have the possibility of looking at the sky again, so he raises his head towards the canvas stretched over him to admire its darkness in case that is his last time admiring the few stars that interrupt the black of it.
He certainly feels refreshed by just carrying out that action.
No matter what time it is, the sky remains the same.
He lowers his head with that thought in mind, opens the grating to get into it and the palm of his hand as well as his feet quickly find ground. As soon as he raises his head, his helmet screen detects details to investigate as he stands up to allow his suit to offer him a plasma sword for each hand, the edge of which are characterized by the same fluorescent violet color of his suit.
All the robots present rest their attention on him but he only focuses on the door behind all those that will allow him the access to what he must get.
The first robot heads towards him and he tightens his grip on the handles of his swords.
He has to get his memories.
He has to get Osamu.
"Why didja do it?" Osamu doesn't sound angry, but sad, devastated.
Suna swallows, and thinks Osamu is a fool after asking him that question.
"Because..." The simple action of opening his mouth to pronounce words is an effort he must make because he’s dying and asking his body for help no longer seems like an option, yet he forces himself to keep talking because he can't not say what he wants to say. "Because I love you."
Osamu cries and leaves his forehead on his, Suna choosing to close his eyes although he knows that he must forbid himself to keep them that way for too long. He only wants to focus on the warmth that Osamu's hand joined with his gives him, as well as on Osamu's arm on his shoulders, keeping him close to him, preventing his back from touching the ground after taking refuge on his lap and close to his chest.
"What am I supposed to do without ya?" Osamu asks, his words tickling his lips even though it's not a pleasant question.
Suna opens his eyes and thanks Osamu for not separating their hands to eliminate the tear that rolls down his cheek. It’s true that the two were supposed to live, that both would reign the two kingdoms, unifying them under their mandate after demonstrating that regardless of the history between them, limits can be destroyed since sometimes it’s better to leave the past buried, where it is; while other times it’s better to learn from it. The love between them has blossomed as a mixture of both, both deciding that remembering the enmity between their homes is necessary for the kingdoms to continue, not forgetting where they come from, but taking those memories to be the example that enemies can be friends in the future, and sometimes, even more than friends.
But any plan can count on flaws.
"You and Atsumu have to..." The wound in his stomach that indicates his end prohibits him from enunciating long sentences, the blood that is not blue but still royal, stains his pieces of clothing, shows that no matter that his crown has fallen and that all his life has been inside a castle, death seeks people in the same way, without distinguishing prestige, social class, or wealth. "Reign in my place, and leave Atsumu in yours."
Osamu increases the grip on his hands and Suna can’t blame him for crying. He thinks that he still looks beautiful, even with the crown on his head, in that way establishing that he is holding his enemy, his lover, in his arms, and that it no longer matters that their secret is known.
"But we were supposed to rule together, side by side."
Suna believes that it’s not worth focusing on what could have been.
From that moment on Osamu will have more time to plague his head with images of both together, living a life that can never be true, because Suna is dying in his arms after not having hesitated to interpose himself between Osamu and the person of his own kingdom who had tried to take his life after approaching him with his sword, ready to take the life of the prince of the opposite kingdom, only to end up exerting treason against his own crown because Suna had intervened and the edge had found his skin instead of Osamu’s.
He doesn’t want to think if he regrets his actions or not.
Perhaps he is selfish because now Osamu will be the one on staying instead of the opposite case.
Maybe he had moved because he knows that Osamu is capable of being without him.
Despite the pain.
Despite the suffering.
They had been thrilled with the idea of reigning side by side because they were young and love had clouded them, making them think that belonging to enemy kingdoms would be no more important than falling in love despite supposedly hating each other. But as soon as Osamu's kingdom had attacked Suna's, ensuring that the enmity was alive while they lived their love in secret, it had become clear to them that their parents were not willing to listen, or at least it had been until an allied sword had encountered Suna's skin because he hadn’t cared not to hesitate to move to protect who was supposed to be his greatest enemy. Suna had always thought that they weren’t invincible, but he was happy to know that his death wouldn’t only be a real loss, the symbolic fall of a crown and the absence of an heir.
He is the one who squeezes Osamu's hand when breathing becomes even more difficult.
"Promise me... promise me." Suna watches him, his voice cracking. "That you will be happy."
"I love you, how do you expect me to be happy?"
Suna smiles even if it hurts. "By remembering me."
He no longer fears dying because he knows that his death has opened the eyes of others. His parents and the twins’ parents will stop fighting over resources, geographical limits, and problems of the past because Suna, finding himself in Osamu's arms, spending his last moments of life focusing on him, in his eyes as gray as his locks through which he has passed his fingers so many times, shows that their love is strong enough to have decided to sacrifice himself for him. He doesn’t fear dying but he fears for Osamu, since he doesn’t want him to drown sorrows for the rest of his life only because all the conversations they have had at night, one in the arms of the other, will no longer be possible.
Osamu is just as destroyed as he is.
"Come here." He asks him.
Osamu leans in even further and Suna leaves a soft kiss on his lips.
All the nights they have spent escaping from their own castles, evading the guards in order to hide and therefore not be found. The moments when smiles have decorated their faces because once again they met in the middle of the forest trees between their kingdoms, being the refuge of the relationship between them. All the words they have allowed to go from addressing each other with suspicion and swords under their chins as a threat, to sighing promises that can’t be fulfilled and with their hands running through their bodies. Suna gathers all the memories in one last kiss that luckily he manages to steal from Osamu because that is the way he has become accustomed to doing, on that occasion with melancholic tears in between and a farewell hidden behind the pink hue of his lips.
"Remember that I love you." Suna demands.
"Remember that I love ya." Osamu repeats.
Suna can’t deny that dying hurts, but listening to Osamu reciprocate his feelings is enough so that the last beat of his heart is not completely sad.
His back hits the wall and one of his swords escapes his possession.
It’s true that he has spent days and nights training, researching that building so that he can be prepared for any surprises he may encounter, and that if people don’t dare to approach it, it’s not only because they ignore what is hidden there, but also because robots around and within it have a scary appearance enough to send anyone away, so he is not surprised when robots relegated to defending people's memories turn out to be more dangerous than he may have thought.
The robots double him in size, agility, and strength. They don’t have a human heart because feeling is for the weak and therefore there is no distraction that prevents them from concentrating on eliminating the target, who at that moment turns out to be him. They don't have eyes either but they scan him, investigate him, they recognize him despite the suit he is wearing.
They know what he is looking for and they want to stop him. They were trained to eliminate him.
A part of his helmet is broken and so a part of the screen of it. The building lights are off but he can still capture the details around him, the technology behind the protection around his head showing him red lines when he focuses on the robots he has managed to cut with the edge of his swords while blue lines for the robots that continue to approach him. He gathers part of his energy in his arm to launch his sword in his hand towards the robot closest to him, managing to give himself a few seconds of advantage after cutting the robot in half. His other sword stays away from him but he refuses to lose his life as the robots continue to advance towards him.
Regardless of the disadvantages, he can’t give up when he is so close to the possibility of making sense of the images his head projects when he tries to sleep, the same face that chases him over and over again, assuring him that he is capable of loving, since when his brain exclaims that those eyes as gray as his locks correspond to the name of Miya Osamu, it becomes clear to him that the people behind desks are playing with their heads, and that they keep all their memories in one place not because they want to protect them as they repeat every day, but because they are lying to them.
He knows that dying hurts, but living hurts even more when life itself is a mystery.
He is aware that death has already been invited by his body because his head continues to give him images of himself, with his life hanging by a thread while Osamu holds him embraced in his arms, not wanting to let him go but having no choice because they don’t control death as well as no one else. Suna knows that establishing dominance over the end of his life is impossible once it’s happening, and for the same reason when at that moment the robot in front of him remains still instead of finally taking away his only hope, he knows that if his heart keeps beating it’s not because he has managed to control death, but because life can be controlled by other people.
Several robots fall to the ground with knives decorated with fluorescent light blue lines nailed to the back of their heads, perfectly positioned so that the functions of the cables within them stop working. Suna stops feeling his gaze among the now cable assemblies discarded when a person walks towards him, hidden under a body-fit suit made of silver scales and lines of the same fluorescent color as the knives, one of which he continues to hold in his hand.
But instead of attacking him with it, he leaves it glued to his suit and then guides his hands to his helmet to take it off, immediately Suna knowing that he is safe because that same face has already appeared too many times in his head; and judging from the look Osamu gives him, Suna knows that he has appeared the same number of times before Osamu's eyes.
They are both looking for their memories.
Osamu blinks several times, the sun in the sky not comparing itself to the warmth that Suna's hands bring to his. Suna is crying but he still turns his head towards him to let a small smile appear on his face.
"Why did you do it?" Suna asks him, he's angry.
He keeps on smiling because he knows that Suna reacts as he can to the fact that they have fought through thick and thin only to be separated —ironically— by the love they have for each other. "There are many ways to..." He coughs and he doesn't know if it’s because his lungs are failing due to the shortness of breath or lack of water, probably both. "There are many ways to answer that question." He assures him, and adds his other hand to theirs even though a grimace accompanies his face.
He doesn't think it's a bad day to die. He has never thought about it seriously, but the reality is that he can’t think of complaining when he is spending his last moments of life with Suna's hands joined to his, with Suna at his side. It’s a sunny day and the heat of the sand underneath his body mixes with the water that meets the beach and cools his body after wetting his tail, allowing the silver scales of it to stand out even more.
"You are a fool." Suna says with a frown and tears slipping down his cheeks.
Osamu can only think of how pretty Suna looks, finally his black locks showing as dark brown because he has stopped hiding in the solitude of his cabin as the captain of the ship that he is. His pale skin will probably turn pink if he stays under the sun too long, and he keeps smiling because he imagines Suna with a slight pink hue on his cheeks, which unlike the one he has caused on him so many times, will not disappear once separated. He is not wearing his captain's hat and has also put aside his robe and sword, his white, poet shirt, stained with blood, indicating that he has tried to save him until he has finally accepted that one must leave while the other stays.
"I'm a merman, actually."
Suna laughs but cries. "A fool merman."
"A merman—" Osamu interrupts himself as the burning in his back increases, and he closes his eyes to focus on Suna's hands with his own because he knows it's not worth moving to prevent the sand that acts as a mattress to stop from infiltrating the wound of his body. "A merman you have fallen in love with." He ends up opening his eyes.
He doesn't want to stop looking at Suna.
Living underwater, he had had many opportunities to be surprised.
And after meeting Suna, many more.
Their homes are different but equally striking, because while Osamu must move his tail to tour the different parts of the castle that he considers his home since his kingdom is under water, where throughout his life he has had the chance to make friends with all kinds of different creatures, from the smallest seahorse to the violet octopus that he still remembers for having stained his brother's face with ink; Suna must use what he doesn’t have to move, legs and feet. Both have different bodies but equally awaken hearts, beating for each other regardless of whether one has spent all those years on a boat sailing on the waters that the other considers his home.
Osamu considers that it’s true that he has lived long enough to observe sunsets, the sun hiding in the waters, to find the brightest pearls and know what a fork is, but he still thinks that Suna is the most wonderful treasure than life has shown him no matter that ironically, Suna is the pirate and not him.
They are supposed to hate each other and be enemies because a creature like Osamu is a great riot for Suna, and Suna must represent the worst kind of oppressor for his species, but instead of hating their differences, both have learned to admire them so that one's death is sad enough not to want it to happen.
If his life is ending it’s because he has learned to love Suna enough to emerge from the water and protect him when one of the people in his crew had tried to take his life. The mere fact of imagining Suna's boat sailing on his waters without him peeking over the deck to look out for him, had been reason enough for him to choose to be he in not having the opportunity to continue seeing him when his head emerged above the waters no matter how many times Atsumu would have called him a fool and told him that it was a dangerous decision. Now Suna would keep sailing, discovering the world as he had mentioned to him that he wanted to do, making sure his underwater kingdom is safe.
"Come here." Osamu asks him.
Suna leans in and he kisses him on the corner of his mouth.
Warmth. Salt. Tears.
Suna.
"Remember that I love ya." He demands.
Suna keeps crying and he can continue to feel the trembling of his body through the union of their hands. He doesn’t allow the smile to leave his face because if he has decided to save Suna it’s so that Suna continues to see him without regretting his decision, even if it has implied that Suna no longer has a reason to expect the day to turn into night, to embark on one of the small boats of the ship and paddle until Osamu appears to rest his arms on the edge of it and tilt his head, already waiting for what mystery will stop being strange because Suna explains his world to him.
"Remember that I love you." Suna repeats.
Osamu can’t deny that dying hurts, but listening to Suna reciprocate his feelings is enough so that the last beat of his heart is not completely sad.
His helmet remains in his hands as well as his gaze on Suna, because he knows that it’s him despite the fact that he continues with his helmet on, though only a few seconds are enough for Suna to get up and take it off, making it clear that he is not crazy for having thought that that night he wouldn’t be the only seeking to infiltrate that building for the same reason.
Atsumu had assured him that he was crazy but at no time had he stopped him, and Aran had taken it upon himself to provide him with the most modern tools to make the mission as easy as possible.
He recognizes gold from all the dreams he has had.
He recognizes dark brown strands that with darkness seem black.
It’s the first time that they are face to face, looking at each other as they have done so many times according to the different images they have seen throughout their lives. But unlike the same, they find themselves standing instead of one of the two losing his life in the arms of the other. They remember who they are only because their heads don’t allow them to forget, because they don’t allow themselves to unlearn each other and their memories are intermingled, and despite the fact that their memories have been stolen, they remember each other as a promise, or at least the different versions that their minds have projected for them.
Osamu bites the inner part of his cheek.
Suna is beautiful, prettier than all the images his head has shown him.
Even with his bruised chin and disheveled hair. It’s strange but at the same time he is not surprised. It’s the first time that they are face to face, yet he feels that he can rest his lips on his right then and there without any discomfort peeking out. He wonders if that is what it means to be soulmates, or if they don’t care and looking at each other is a result of their refusal to lose each other. "We hafta go for the memories." He decides to express instead.
They don’t need introductions or wonder what they are doing there to know that they know each other and therefore want the same thing for the same reason.
They don’t need to understand why when dreaming they see the other, why when distracted, the face of the other is the first thing that appears. Throughout their lives they have been chasing each other without even physically doing so. They don’t want to understand what it is that unites them, what has led them to find themselves there, at that moment, with the same plan and the same mission without even having spoken about it.
They know that they belong to each other since otherwise they wouldn’t be there, shared memories assuring them that although that is the first time they are face to face in that life, their existence is not limited to only one universe.
There are no robots to stop them. Suna nods, and after taking his swords, they waste no time after heading to the door and descending the stairs of the same, looking at each other to verify that the person they have been imagining throughout their lives, is real, of flesh and blood, majestic.
Their brains have been washed to forget but their impulses have forced them to remember, to recreate pieces of the memories that apparently had been stolen from them and that at that moment they find in the form of a room full of rows of shelves, all the drawers with different names. The two separate again and keep their respective weapons in their hands in case a new attack surprises them, both searching for their respective names until they find them.
They think it’s weird, their memories staying in the palms of their hands in the form of bluish chips. It’s strange, definitely, to have them after all the time spent training, creating all the possible plans to be able to infiltrate the building, the possibility of finally making sense of the images, now lying in the palms of their hands, all apparently the same because they see each other’s chip when they come back together.
Suna sees Osamu's memories, Osamu sees Suna's memories.
They are looking for the truth, the strings between them.
"At the same time?" Suna asks him.
Osamu nods, Suna swallows.
He thinks Osamu is handsome.
The two share a look before nodding again, and break the chips in two.
Immediately an alarm begins to sound as red lights decorate the room, but they can’t focus on it as their eyes remain on the memories that have finally appeared in front of them as if they were computer files. Small squares with moving images are floating around them, lighting their eyes with different colors thanks to its backgrounds.
Suna sees himself as a boy, with his parents giving him a toy phone that makes him hold a sad smile because he has been obsessed with technology for as long as he can remember, which is not really much because his memories have clearly been stolen.
Osamu laughs when he sees himself fighting Atsumu when they were little, all because of a stuffed toy Osamu was biting and Atsumu seemed to be telling him that this was no way to treat a stuffed animal after smacking him in the head, thus getting the two of them to start a fight at the age of five.
Most of the images are them when they are small and only seem to reach until they are thirteen years old, but soon their eyes focus on the same images once they notice that the projections of both seem to be parallel and interpose since they turn out to be the same. They are together in different scenarios, sometimes hugging each other, sometimes with their hands together, and sometimes introducing themselves to each other. They are laughing and crying. They are greeting each other for the first time and saying goodbye for the last time. The two feel familiar with the images they are seeing, realizing that at that time they don’t need to pronounce their names because they have always been together in one way or another, whether in that life or another. Following, chasing, not giving up.
A noise distracts them and they both look up, realizing that all the robots are probably entering the roof at that time. They lower their gazes to interlock their eyes, assuming they won't get out of there alive because it's impossible and they are only two people against probably the largest army of robots. It’s not worth drawing their weapons when they only have a few minutes to live.
Finally they understand why they can remember each other despite the lack of information. They have promised themselves and each other to find each other, to seek each other and not rest until doing it just like then, risking everything, including their lives, only to see each other one more time. The needles keep moving and the circle, the cycle, begins and ends again.
Osamu takes one more step towards him and takes Suna’s face in his hands, Suna appreciating the physical contact. The skin he caresses with his thumb is soft, pale as he has seen so many times in his head.
There is so much that they want to say, so much that has already been said in different ways as it’s not the first time they see each other but they understand that it will not be the last either.
"Remember that I love ya."
"Remember that I love you."
Words expressed at the same time.
They will continue to have more chances, more lives, to express out loud all the words that at that moment they chose to drown after Suna decides to surround Osamu’s neck with his arms. It’s a familiar gesture, a feeling they know and enough for them to keep focusing on each other instead of the door of the room being knocked down.
Dying hurts, but knowing that their feelings are reciprocated is enough so that the last beats of their hearts are not completely sad.
Osamu is shaken by his own sensations and awakened by his mind.
He brings his hand to the middle of his chest at the same time that he sits down and his fingers enclose the golden ring that hangs on his chest thanks to the thin chain around his neck, the firmness that it gives him contrasting with the restless rhythm of his heartbeat, until he turns his head and blinks several times. The room around him is dark but the night illuminates the person whose hand he takes with his when he barely sees him. He feels that he must hold Suna with strength since perhaps his mind is still playing a game with him, yet he takes his hand gently as he doesn’t want to wake him up.
Suna is by his side. Sleeping.
Suna is with him.
He stops holding the ring to rub his face with his now free hand and lets out a silent sigh.
It had just been a nightmare.
He doesn’t waste time looking at his phone screen to see what time it is since it’s late and his head has been the one to wake him up. He forces himself to take a deep breath to remind himself that it was just a bad product of his head and everything is fine.
He feels his hand being lightly squeezed and he turns his head again, but this time to watch Suna waking up.
"Osamu?" He asks with his eyes still closed, his hand still with his. Suna raises his head, already getting Osamu to stop being totally serious as a small smile appears on his face after seeing his locks pointing everywhere. "What is it?"
Osamu turns his body towards him and brings his free hand to his face to caress his cheek with the help of his knuckles. "Sorry, go back to sleepy, yeah?" He hadn't wanted to wake him up but it had seemed necessary to take his hand. Osamu leaves a kiss on his forehead and a sleepy smile appears on Suna's face. Now he has his eyes slightly narrowed, still struggling with the sudden awakening in the middle of the night, and yet, Osamu chooses to rest his hand on his cheek and ask him, "Yer okay?"
Suna nods. "Yeah," He stops taking Osamu's hand to tour his arm and in that way get them both to lie down again, looking at each other because Suna's hand reaches his shoulder to later stop at the back of his head and caress the start of his hair. "And you?" He asks, since although he is still certainly asleep, he had gotten up because of Osamu.
Osamu licks his lips, blinking to free himself from the last traces his head has thrown at him and thus staying with the reality in front of him.
"Just a nightmare."
Again a sleepy smile caresses Suna's face. "So you are telling me that when I'm not here you don't have nightmares, but when I'm here you do have them?"
Osamu smiles, grateful that that weekend Suna had decided to come back to Hyogo to spend time with him because otherwise he would have gotten up unaccompanied, and it would probably have been more difficult to calm himself after the nightmare. He is glad to realize that the fact that Suna plays in Nagano since EJP is located there, that his new business in Tokyo involves traveling there to check that everything is going well, and that his first shop in Hyogo is still going, doesn’t change the fact that they don't need a single place because they consider each other their home. But the smile quickly leaves his face once he proceeds to reduce the distance between them even more after passing one of his legs over Suna's hip and taking refuge in him.
"I dreamed that you weren't with me." His whispered words find Suna's chest.
He stops keeping his hand on his cheek to slide it down to his chest and takes the same golden ring that he wears on his. He looks at it and breathes because a promise unites them in addition to the mutual love between them.
Suna continues to use one of his arms as a pillow and the other to stroke his hair with his fingers, running them through his black locks.
"I'm here." He asserts and Osamu closes his eyes because hearing those words is good too. "That head of yours," Suna mentions before hugging him, choosing not to add any more words since sometimes, most of the time, caresses are enough.
Osamu lets go of the ring to put his arm around his waist and they stay in silence, in the middle of the darkness and with the moon as their company, hugging each other, Osamu losing himself in the warm sensations that Suna offers him with his presence, the skin-to-skin contact fading all traces of coldness.
"Better?" Suna asks him.
"Much better."
He always feels better when he is with Suna.
It’s a comfortable, calm, and lull feeling. It has always been like this. He remembers the two of them wearing the same jacket and uniform, one asleep with his head on the other's shoulder, or one using the other's lap as a pillow. He even remembers the sense of curiosity that had washed over him when he had seen Suna introducing himself to the class. Suna had sat on the desk next to him and they had shared a look before looking away because they hadn't planned for their eyes to meet. He thinks of all the little moments that have built the trust between them that has subsequently led them to promise themselves to each other, to love and respect each other, to give each other caresses in the middle of the night and whisper words that no one else is allowed to hear.
"If you ever dream something like that again, you just have to remember that I love you." Suna accompanies his words with a kiss on his head. "And that I won't leave you."
Osamu's face is illuminated by a smile that only Suna can make appear.
He remembers falling in love with his best friend and it feeling natural at the same time, his feelings progressively increasing as he fell —and continues to fall— for Suna, for his gaze so golden under the warmest day of an autumnal morning as green in case of being accompanied by the adequate lighting, for his sarcastic and confident vocabulary, for his determined yet disinterested attitude, and for his company that gives him tranquility, love, and security.
"You too, remember that I love ya."
Because just as he has nightmares, Suna can have them too, and therefore, it never hurts to express those words that they both have become used to citing as a personal poem. They are fully aware that the love between them is mutual but in any case they never hesitate to express those words when they have the occasion, as it serves as a constant reminder that they have chosen to be together.
Whenever they pronounce them out loud to then allow their lips to savor the reality of their feelings, a sensation of familiarity runs accompanying the definition of their muscles to let them know that saying those two words while looking at each other is the only thing allowed. They have become used to saying them over and over, without stopping, without doubting, without getting tired. When they get up because they have slept side by side and when they are about to fall sleep, different parts of their bodies intermingled and proves of their love in the form of different marks all over their skins.
Either face to face, millimeters being the distance between their lips and the tips of their noses, so close that Suna allows himself to feel happy because he believes that Osamu is the right person for him as he is for Osamu, as well as Osamu to feel he’s the luckiest person after thinking that Suna is the most beautiful creature that life has presented to him; or also with their phones trapped between their cheeks and shoulders, listening to the voice of the other while carrying out their day-to-day tasks because not sharing a bed all the nights doesn’t take away that when they go to sleep they continue to think about each other, other times too being able to look at each other through a screen after deciding to hold video calls.
Suna matches his expression by smiling in the same way, and they soon fall asleep, hugging each other and knowing they have each other, the unbreakable and eternal love they themselves have created, embracing them.
Living doesn't hurt, and hearing the reciprocity of their feelings is enough for their hearts to keep beating with calmness.
Isn't fate painfully beautiful?